The Asgardian Guide to Cross-Dimensional Travel
by Irmo-Kementari
Summary: The Bi-frost has finally been repaired, but perhaps leaving someone named the trickster in charge of designing a multi-dimensional portal with no educated supervision and then sending your best warriors through said portal is a bad idea. Add time-travel and things get very strange very fast. Crack fic in which Asgard meets Middle Earth, and the trickster plays one trick to many.
1. Of Brothers and Bifrosts

_Disclaimer: we do not own any portion of this Marvel universe, and for that you may all be grateful._

**A/N** This is our first fan-fiction (and yes, we are two people, I am not simply employing the royal 'we') so we would appreciate any reviews, advice, or constructive criticism that you can spare. Thank you, and enjoy.

**_~Of brothers and Bi-frosts ~_**

~o~o~o~ In the Halls of the Odin Rest~o~o~o~

'Today is a good day to drink, I guess every day is a good day to drink on Asgard… but hey, what's one more tankard?' Odin took another swig and chuckled that some people thought of Thor as the irresponsible one. That is just one more perk to being king. He could just fall into the "Odin Nap" or whatever they call it nowadays, wait for them to close the door, and then call Heimdall in to talk some sports (Vikings rock) and slam some of that Niflheim mead that Frigga thought he couldn't find.

There was but one problem with being king, and that was a problem Thor had given him, (for once the good one broke something.) Now that the Bifrost was down, how exactly could he race the other kings to random realms?

Well, there is always the chance that some heroic hero would fix it. Of course once he started asking around there were hundreds of Asgardians bouncing up and down (literally in some cases) to fix it, but very few had the skill or knowledge to build a bilgesnipe trap, much less a trans-dimensional portal.

So of course, he had to haul Loki up to fix it.

Some folks thought that giving Loki control of potentially the most powerful tendril of Yggdrasil gifted to the Aesir was a bad idea since Loki still hadn't buried the hatchet after falling off the dumb thing, but Odin just had Heimdall watch the trickster so no biggie. Seriously, who is a better guy to watch a psychopathic con man then the man who sees all? (That last bit frankly creeped him out and made him wonder just what-all the golden-eyed watchman really saw. Does he try finding Santa or something? Maybe he found Bigfoot by now… or the abominable snowman? Or maybe the…?)

Whoops, there it went again, you would not believe how hard it is to retain a train of thought when mildly intoxicated… (code for totally wasted) but the bridge has been fixed, and now he might be able to use it, even though it COULD be dangerous; Frigga wanted him to send a probe through it, but hey, that's not very fun! So it is a good thing he had an elite squad of super strong goons to try it out… time to call out the Warriors Three…. and Sif? Nah, Sif can sit back and chill with Thor.

~o~o~o~Meanwhile, in the Halls of Feasting~o~o~o~

"Hey, Volstagg, I bet I can eat more legs of lamb then you can!" taunted a thin, but extremely dangerous looking young man, who was armed with a sword, a bow, and more daggers than any one being had any right to possess.

"I could beat you with my mouth sewn shut! No, that's not right... that would really hurt, and i wouldn't be able to eat... Ah,Man! now my head hurts, I just want me a tankard of mead.. Tankard of mead… tankard of mead… I like mead, and I like tankards… whoa... Why are there five of you Hogun? Give that back! Where are you taking- I need that!? HOOOOGUUUUN?!

Standing off to a side, flanked by two reluctantly sober guards, Loki chuckled. 'Oh how fun it is to watch a fat man run.' he mused, as Volstagg charged by (charging might be a stretch, more like wobbling). But perhaps such physical exertion is warranted, he is being goaded after all... by a tankard of mead and some roast boar. 'Man, Hogun has wheels. The thought made him smirk, I wish I could run that fast, might have helped me get out of the room when Sif found out her hair was dyed…' the look on her face had been priceless. He had considered going for something a little more "adventurous" than black, but if he had gone with pink he probably would be dead right now. Loki smirked, life was good. Well... when he wasn't plunging through the void. But he had the feeling that today was going to be one of those really-super-epic-amazing-hilarious days. Either that or Odin would be drunk when time for the speech about his "wonderful rainbow bridge" had to commence. 'Yeah, that would be pretty good too…'

~o~o~o~Not in the Halls of Feasting~o~o~o~

Frigga was just having a bad day, first of all, one of the guards had cheesed her off, and she had had to throw him into the dungeon (the guy had said she had anger problems, but hey, it's stressful being queen, and he doesn't have to balance in these stupid shoes all day...) Then of course Odin had gone into his "Odinsleep" like the whole population the nine realms didn't know what THAT was all about. It isn't realm hopping, people; you could hear laughter coming from in there all day long, and Heimdall was always gone from his post for exactly as long as the Odinsleep lasted.

On top of all that, Volstagg and Hogun must have drunk half of the mead in Asgard. Seriously, hundreds of Asgardians were going to be at the feast tonight and at this rate they would have to ration the alcohol! And that was before Fandral and Thor showed up, but hey, she can't judge. Her pastime donning a glamour and throwing eggs at anyone who dares walk past her door. Of course, she had been anticipating a particular means of stress relief, stealing Eir's cat and using it as a test subject of the Bifrost, but then, of course, Odin decided that sentient test subjects where necessary…

Why did I marry him? Yes, he is the king, and if I didn't marry him, he would have sold Asgard for as many alcoholic beverages as he could get his hands on, but was it worth it… Frigga paused to consider the question, before she shook herself from her reverie and continued her preparations for the grand speech. Frigga snorted, 'grand'? Last time this happened Odin needed his personal guard to keep him on his feet. Once he even banished Thor because "He took the last leg of lamb."

I guess I should bless the lands of Asgard with my presence, hmmm, should I bring eggs or not? Perhaps egging the king would reflect poorly on my queenly dignity. Maybe later. Perhaps just one, hidden on the throne, so when Odin sits down he will get a squishy surprise…

~o~o~o~Three hours later~o~o~o~

Odin had awoken and was throwing his party, half of the population was present, and things could get very dangerous very fast, "I bet three-quarters of the people here, including the children, are armed" commented Sif.

"Well, you are probably right, but hey, that's what makes these things fun!" Thor replied with a worryingly excited smirk.

Loki facepalm, mentally groaning. What is the point of this drunken small talk? It's just stupid; next thing you know they are going to say something like 'look at how nice the weather is!' as if the whole weather system isn't controlled up here.

"Isn't the weather nice this time of the year?" asked Sif.

"Um, what's with my brother?"

Sif turned, and saw Loki trying to stab himself with a spoon. "I don't know," she shrugged, "I usually just try to zone him out."

Thor looked at her questioningly, "That is kind of harsh you know, yet wiser, perhaps, than attempting to understand him." Suddenly they heard a crash, a couple screamed expletives and an "I'M FREEEE."

Thor and Sif spun around in time to see several palace guards surrounding a green blur of motion. There were several blurred kicks, a well-placed illusion and Loki was out the window.

"Somebody should take care of that…"

"Yes, they should…" Sif agreed before turning back to her food.

Thor gave the window one more worried look before shrugging it off; either Loki had a few too many drinks, or he was just having one of his "Hate small talk" rage fits.

Down below, on one of the many fragrant garden paths that wound around the feasting hall, Hogun was just enjoying his evening walk when "splat", Loki landed RIGHT in front of him.

He was grinning.

Hogun stared frantically at the grinning megalomaniac, 'Should I stop him or just try to blend in and run for my life? Wait, is he armed? Nope, that's just a spoon, never mind. '

"What are you looking at? I have seen a LOT of your fights end worse than this!" Loki broke the silence with a grin, right before the guards appeared and dragged him away.

"Well, that was weird," he muttered. But he had long ago learned not to expect any level of sanity from this demented realm, so with one last shake of his head he continued to prepare his mind for the coming ceremony.

~o~o~o~Significantly later~o~o~o~

Fandral swaggered confidently past the rows of assembled Asgardians. This was so cool. The All-Father was letting the Warriors Three be the first to try out the "new and improved" Bifrost. It was going to be totally epic! It would probably not going to be a grand and exhilarating adventure to thrill the ladies with upon his return, but that could be fixed with a bit of doctoring. It would be fairly tame in reality; Loki said it would be.

He paused in his step and considered that last thought. Yeah, Loki, trustworthy, he had had too much to drink.

Ah, well, it would be a grand honor none the less, assuming Loki was not serious about that threat to just send them to the plains of Muspelheim and close the gate. Nah, Loki had been angry at the time, he wouldn't really...would he?

Fandral shuddered, this was not the time to be having second thoughts, the All-father's speech was about to commence. He and his fellow warriors came to a stop at the foot of the bridge where the ceremony was to be held before the brave warriors were to be sent to their doom- adventure. Fandral shook all lingering thoughts of dread from his mind as he clapped his fist over his heart and knelt before the All-Father.

The warrior three lifted their heads to gaze respectfully at the All-Father. He must have been woken from the Odin sleep, Fandral thought reverently. The aged man's eyes were bleary and there was dampness over his head. Frigga must have had to use all of her arts to wake him from so deep a slumber just for this occasion, Fandral thought wonderingly. He suddenly realized how important this mission was as he glanced over at the dignified queen standing in her place beside the throne. He could see one of her hands gently supporting her aged lord, and her face was set in grim determination. He felt suddenly inspired by new-found resolve.

"My loyal vassals," Odin began, addressing the three armored men kneeling at his feet, he seemed to pause as Frigga whispered something in his ear. "I bid you rise, for today, you are not my servants," he paused for dramatic effect as Frigga leaned close and whispered something else. "You are my friends."

The crowd cheered appreciatively as the warriors stood and Fandral winked at one particularly feminine corner of the crowd. He turned back to the proceedings, but saw several swooning figures out of the corner of his eye.

As the cheering faded Frigga leaned toward her husband's ear one more, doubtless to offer encouragement as the Odin sleep beckoned, and Odin held up a hand and spoke again, "Though this bridge has been repaired by the criminal Loki..." Here Frigga seemed to shift her weight and Odin flinched and rubbed his ankle, before continuing. "It shall bring many realms to justice through the..." Odin paused again and Frigga whispered in his ear. "Through the valiance and vigilance of Asgardian strength."

Fandral noted a stir near the steps to the dais and saw Thor hopping on one foot and glaring daggers at a well secured, and strangely battered Loki. The dude looked like he was thrown from a top story window. Wonder what that was all about.

The king had started to branch his speech off about how the bridge would lessen the need for alcohol tariffs and trade with Niflheim would flourish, when Frigga whispered in his ear and he finally concluded "Now, it is with great honor, that I send these brave men through our new gate, that we may once again rule the universe!" He started laughing maniacally and one or two people clapped hesitantly before Frigga accidently stepped on his now discolored foot and gestured for the procession to move down the bridge.

As Fandral strutted down the bridge to his grand adventure, he chanced a glance back and saw Loki waving after him with a positively evil grin on his narrow face.


	2. Of Wormholes and Weirdos

My Disclaimer:_No universe it mine (such as Odin's universe dominating plans) but mainly just the Marvel universe and Lord of the Rings universe are not mine. Also, this chapter begins with an only slightly abbreviated quote from the beginning of Tolkien's "Two Towers"… obviously, not mine._

A/N This is Kementari, Sorry for the wait, we really have no excuse save the usual vicissitudes of life. To make up for it we will try to get another chapter posted this week, but no promises. Also, we would like to thank Viressiel for her awesome review. If you like this story, or have any ideas on how to make it better, please leave a review, they mean a lot. Thank you, and now... On to the story!

**Of Wormholes and Weirdos**

Aragorn sped up the hill. Every now and again he bent to the ground. Hobbits go light, and their footprints are not easy even for a ranger to read, but not far from the top a spring crossed their path, and in the wet earth he saw what he was seeking.

'I read the signs aright' he said to himself. 'Frodo ran to the hilltop, but he returned by the same way.'

Aragorn hesitated. He desired to go to the high seat himself, hoping to see something that would guide him in his perplexities; but time was pressing. To go or not to go…suddenly a cry like that of a frightened maiden rang out from somewhere directly above him. Turning his face upward, Aragorn had but a moment to marvel at three strange men being spewed from a wavering blue hole in the sky before said men landed ignominiously atop him. 'Well, that settles that question at least.'

Aragorn struggled out from beneath the mass of struggling limbs, and with a deft motion, he drew Anduril. This appeared to be a new trickery, and if trickery it was, he must be doubly vigilant.

The three strangers righted themselves nearly as quickly as he had. Well, two of them did. The fat one was still rolling around and muttering about motion sickness and roast boar. The heavy man's companions stepped back warily, and Aragorn followed suit. He wasn't generally a ninny, but he wasn't over eager to be in the way if said roast boar were to make reappearance.

"Who are you, and what is your purpose?" Aragorn demanded, directing his attention to the fair haired stranger and his morose companion for the time being. He couldn't be sure, but the fair man might have been a Rohirrim, the black haired man looked like an Eastern corsair and the red man…perhaps he was a mutated dwarf?

The fair one smirked and answered, "We are the three most overqualified lab rats at Odin's disposal, sent to test the fidelity of the least trustworthy architect this side of Vanaheim."

Before Aragorn could comment on the man's poor head for alcohol, a deep horn blast penetrated the air.

"The horn of Boromir!" he cried and sprang past the now thoroughly confused strangers. "Elendil! Elendil!" he cried as he crashed through the trees, sword still in hand, following the waning cry of the horn.

Finally, nearly a mile from the stream from whence he came, he burst through the trees to see Boromir leaning against a tree and surrounded by dead orcs. Aragorn quickly disposed of the last orcs foolish enough to remain on the scene and hastened to Boromir's side.

Boromir opened his eyes with an effort and stared first at Aragorn and then at the three warriors who had just arrived upon the scene and were now leaning upon their weapons in various stages of exhaustion. With a start, the dying man blinked and looked again. "What?" he gasped and turned his eyes back to Aragorn for a moment before trying again. "What are those morons doing here?"

Aragorn frowned. This was not what he was expecting. He spared a questioning glance over his shoulder at the three men who had managed to catch their breath were now staring at Boromir with varying degrees of sympathy and admiration. The blond one was whispering something to his companions about a glorious death in battle, but none of them seemed to recognize Boromir, and Aragorn realized that Boromir was hallucinating.

"How are you here?" Boromir gasped. "How did you know this would happen? You said I would try to take the ring, and I did! How could you know that?!" he paused in his tirade to cough and grasp one of the arrows in his stomach. "You knew I would die…" he trailed off as Aragorn stared at him in concern.

"You tried to take the Ring?" Aragorn asked in disbelief.

"I…I was weak, I am sorry, the orcs took the Halflings…" he dissolved into coughs still alternating his gaze between Aragorn and the strangers, "I have failed Gondor, I have failed…" he broke off again in exhaustion.

"Um, I'm having trouble remembering your face;" the red man admitted with consternation, "Do you frequent Asgardian bars?"

"Did they take Frodo?" Aragorn asked urgently, ignoring the cavalier strangers for the moment, but no answer came, and the ranger knew that his friend was already dead.

Aragorn closed his friend's eyes and sighed. 'So passes Boromir, heir of Denethor lord of the Tower of the Guard! This is a bitter end. Now the company is all in ruin.' He bowed his head and closed his eyes. "And now I am left with these ill-mannered spies who dropped out of the sky…My life stinks." He thought despondently.

~o~o~o~o~Back in Asgard~o~o~o~o~

"My liege, I bring you… troubling news, it is of the warrior three." Heimdall intoned solemnly as he strode dramatically into the grand hall.

"What news? Has something happened to them?" demanded Odin. Loki was standing behind him, flanked by two guards, and trying (and failing) not to grin maliciously.

"Yes, they have disappeared from the branches of Yggdrasil! They are in an unknown realm, it looks a bit like the Midgardian common-wealth of new Zealand, just without the funky accents, and plus a bizarre menagerie of sentient beings ranging from a whole race of fully lingual Groots to a giant flaming eye whose plot for world domination seems to be hinged on an item of mislaid jewelry. It all reminds me of a book I read a long time ago. I could show you of course, but right now our Asgardian heroes seem to be okay. They have joined a small company of warriors and right now they are just walking… and walking…oh! Now they are jogging! That actually looks really tiring. Ooh… Volstagg is going to be seeing that lembas again."

"I believe you! That is quite enough!" Odin interrupted hurriedly.

Loki grinned; this was too good! He had known that his new Bifrost was free from the outmoded constrictions of the old. He had known that the warrior three would probably get hurled to an unknown realm (hopefully one with an atmosphere, but Loki knew how to cut his losses) but just knowing what could happen was not half so fun as hearing about the trio's misfortune. He kind of wished he could see them himself just so he could laugh at their confused faces.

"Um, Loki, do you know something about this?"

Loki snapped out of his reverie to see everyone in the room staring at him. Oops, he must have had that 'evil maniac plotting your painful and slow demise' look on his face again. He should really start paying better attention, but solitary confinement had apparently taken a toll on his poker face; he had made that deal to fix the bridge just in the nick of time. "No, of course not, All-Father, I am simply relieved that the warriors have found an adventure truly fit to their calling."

Odin nodded sagely, but was still staring at Loki strangely, so Loki widened his eyes innocently and added, "I just hope they're alright, they are my friends after all." At that last bit he allowed his voice to falter and lowered his eyes to the ground.

The All-Father stared at his delinquent son for a moment longer before he appeared satisfied with what he saw and turned his attention to other matters.

Frigga rolled her eyes and Loki smirked.

~o~o~o~Meanwhile...~o~o~o~

"So, let me get this straight, you guys are from Asgard, which is not only one of the nine realms on some metaphorical dimension-bridging tree named Yggdrasill, but also the most powerful planet in any known plane of existence, and you went over a rainbow bridge, and landed here, and now you want to know what realm this is?" asked a very doubtful looking Aragorn.

"Yep, that's about it! Except it's not a rainbow bridge; it looks like a rainbow, and it's a bridge, but we call it the Bifrost!" explained Fandral, with a big grin, "So, what realm is this again?"

Aragorn stared at the blonde man for a moment before commenting wonderingly, "It seems I have made a hasty judgement in assuming you to be agents of the Dark Lord; no self-respecting master of evil would send his spies with tales of universe spanning ash trees somewhere over the rainbow." Aragorn hesitated a moment then added, "But then, he did willingly siphon his power through an easily misplaced finger ornament, so perhaps I overestimate his intellect."

Fandral snorted then hurried to match the ranger's lengthened strides so he could continue to educate him on the truths of the universe.

Aragorn was a little preoccupied tracking the mud-monsters (orcs he called them) but he still managed to argue that it was unheard of to magically travel from planet to planet much less bridge dimensions. (Aragorn really started to question the sanity of the universe when he found that Fandral had never heard of Middle-Earth or even of Arda.)

Gimli rolled his eyes, "Is Blondie always like this? And did you hear the whole rainbow bridge thing…" at this point he took to whispering with Volstagg "exactly how drunk was he when he fell out of that tree?"

Volstagg sighed heavily. Or maybe he was just still breathing heavily from the Aragorn- mandated forced march. "Actually, we really did come from a different realm," he stated almost apologetically. At Gimli's incredulous look, he dropped back, nominally just to explain their predicament to the dwarf, but really just because he was so stinking tired.

At this point, Hogun and Legolas found themselves in relative seclusion as neither of them were ambitious enough to match Aragorn's pace and brave Fandral's chatter or bored enough to listen to Volstagg trying to sound like he had the slightest clue of how the Bifrost worked. So they just continued to walk in silence. Neither of them were big talkers.

"Your friends are strange."

Hogun glanced at the elf, but Legolas continued walking with that weird 'I can see so far I am watching the back of my own head from all the way around the world' look on his face. Hogun shrugged, "Your friends aren't exactly normal; a man, a dwarf, and an elf, traveling the wilderness on foot in search of 'Hobbits' that have been captured by 'Orcs'."

"I admit our world has need gone insane that I would willingly quest in fellowship with a dwarf." Legolas said this with a hint of amusement under his feigned disgust.

They walked in companionable silence once more. Behind them, the red-bearded men were laughing animatedly about giant rainbows and grizzly battles. Up ahead, Fandral had abandoned his crusade to verify the existence of the Bifrost and was now asking Aragorn about Rohirrim women.

Perhaps this odd company was not so bad.

**A/N Irmo: As Kementari already stated, we failed our mission *sigh* anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because there is a whole lot more where this came from! *evil laugh* sweet dreams!**


	3. Of Questions and Questing

_Disclaimer: We own nothing. If there is anything in here that you like, it probably belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien or Marvel._

**A/N** Hey, this is Kementari, apologies for the late update, but this chapter is the longest to date so hopefully that is worth something. It turned into a bit of a monster, but we hope you like it. Also, this fic is going to be a rather massive cross-over, and the two fandoms currently represented are not going to be the only ones to make an appearance. Spoilers. Thank you to all those yet reading, and if you would leave a review we will forever be in your debt. Thank you, and enjoy.

A/N ll: In case any one is curious, I did a little bit of shuffling since this story was first posted; most of the content is the same, I just shifted around some of the layout and changed how the chapters were broken up. The story is the same, I just improved the overall flow a little. Read on.

**Of Questions and Questing**

Eomer rode proudly at the head of his regiment. He and his riders had just taken out a whole camp of orcs and only had three casualties. He sighed happily as his little troop rode onward; those stinky orcs hadn't stood a chance! They were weird looking orcs though. He wondered briefly if he should be worried by that, then shrugged. They WERE weird looking orcs, now they're just weird looking ashes. He smiled grimly; point one for the good guys.

Suddenly a voice called out from behind him, "What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?"

Eomer started in his saddle, but recovered quickly. With a deft kick of his foot he had wheeled his horse and began to gallop around the strange figures that seemed to have risen from the grass. He and his men raced their horses in an ever shrinking circle around the strange beings that had the nerve to venture through orc infested wilderness, and the skill to evade his sight. Within seconds the strangers were trapped inside an impenetrable wall of horses and spears.

'_That was totally awesome!' _Eomer thought excitedly, '_We have been practicing that for forever and we finally got it right!'_ With a light nudge to his horse, Eomer rode forward until the point of his spear was inches from the chest of the apparent leader. Now that he was closer, he saw that the company consisted of four men, an elf, and dwarf. Oops, he had thought that they were orcs, but to back out now would look silly, so he demanded "Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?"

The scruffy looking man at the point of his spear was about to reply, but the blond man with the goatee beat him to it. "Funny, that is almost exactly what Aragorn here asked us when we bonked into each other!"

The man facing Eomer looked mildly annoyed or a moment and Eomer guessed that he had wanted to give a false name. So this was Aragorn. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn't ringing any bells.

Trying to stay on topic, Eomer ignored for the moment the question of Aragorn's name and the puzzle of his untactful comrade, and instead asked, "How did you escape our sight? Are you elvish folk?" Great, he just asked if they were elves, it's a good thing he didn't mention the whole thinking they were orcs thing, that would really wipe away any scrap of trust these people had in his eyesight.

Aragorn replied, "No, one only of us is an Elf, the rest of us have passed through the woodland realm and carry the favors of the lady with us, except for these men who travel with us. Our paths crossed at Parth-Galen, and their voices have plagued my steps ever since. As for my purpose, I am a wanderer from the north, and I am hunting orcs."

Before Eomer could reply to this revelation, they were interrupted, again.

"That is incredibly rude!" the taller of the two wide-girthed, hirsute strangers protested. "We volunteered to help you out on your quest thing, with no hope of reward, and all you can do is insult us! When I tell this story back in Asgard, I will describe you as having a paunch! See if I don't!"

Eomer offered Aragorn a pitying glance, and the man came as close to rolling his eyes as a tall and grim roamer of the wilderness and hunter of orcs could come to rolling his eyes. In this case, it was pretty close.

Suddenly Eomer registered what the man had said, "So there is a Lady of the Golden Wood as the old tales tell!" he thought aloud. "Few escape her nets, they say. Perhaps you yourselves are net-weavers!" he stared at the travelers with renewed wariness, he was pretty sure that they weren't casting any illusions, but he was supposed to be keen of mind and eye, and it's hard to look keen of eye when you almost miss six people standing on a hill without cover, who aren't even hiding from you…

"Strange days indeed, but we really didn't come here to talk about golden nets and fairy tales, did you happen to see any 'orcs' that we can squish?"

Eomer turned cold eyes upon the talkative blond man. He would have been disturbed by the silence of the three that had yet to speak, but this blond one was making it difficult enough to get a word in edgewise that perhaps their taciturnity was understandable. After a moment of staring the man down, he simply stated, "Strangers in the Riddermark would be wise to be less haughty in these days of doubt. You truly know little of orcs if you pursue them in this manner, yet you need pursue them no longer, for the Orcs are destroyed. Now tell me 'Aragorn' who do you serve, and from whence you come and to what purpose, for we have never met, yet I feel that yours is a story that soon many shall hear."

Aragorn considered him a moment before replying, "First tell me whom you serve, are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"

"As for that," Eomer declared, conscious that his men were watching him, "the stranger should declare himself first, but I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden King, son of Thengel; we are not servants to the Black Land, nor are we at war with. We wish things only to remain as they always have. In better days we welcomed guests but now the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Now tell me, oh Aragorn of the strange company, from whence do you come into this land and whom do you serve that you hunt orcs so on foot?"

At this point, Aragorn drew himself to his full height and prepared himself to offer a full revelation. A fire lit behind his eyes, and Eomer clearly saw that this man was much more than a wandering hunter of orcs. His face became grim and fair, like the ancient kings carved into stone. The man threw back his cloak to reveal a bright and beautiful sword, held in a sheath of elven making. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I am not weaponless. I know more of orcs than many a mortal man, and I hunt them thus not out of choice, but because they have taken our friends. In such a straight a man will go on foot for lack of a horse, and surround himself with talkative idiots for lack of a company."

Eomer stared at the man for a moment, Aragorn seemed prepared to go on, but the blond man in strange armor looked like he was about to talk again, so he quickly dismounted and said, "Truly legends spring from the grass, we have horses, for three of my men have fallen. We saw no beings but orcs for all within the camp were destroyed, yet if you wish to find for yourselves the fate of your fellows you need not do it on foot."

At that last declaration the taller red bearded man began to snicker, and Eomer realized that perhaps the word 'fallen' was an unfortunate euphemism for the death of a horseman.

Eomer saw Eothain giving him a dirty look, and hid his smirk. He was Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Ridermark; he did not give horses to strangers just to upset his uptight second in command. But it was a really big bonus. Maybe not worth breaking the law, he frowned; he had forgotten about that law, the annoying blond one had distracted him. Shoot, he would have to ask some of them to stay behind as insurance or something.

"Our friends were not men, but would appear as dwarves or children to your eyes, they were clad in grey and unshod. Did you see any such bodies among the dead?"

Eomer turned back to Aragorn and his frown deepened, the orcs stole this guy's kids. That would certainly explain why he had journeyed out through the wilderness on foot. "We saw neither child nor dwarf when we despoiled the bodies and burned them as is our custom." He explained, trying not to think about the many ways that the monsters could have disposed of a couple of children before the riders thorough intervention.

"If the Hobbits are all crispy, I really don't need to see them. I'm good, we can go home now."

Aragorn stared expressively at the big, red-bearded man for a moment, and the dwarf stabbed the hilt of his axe into his taller counterpart's foot.

"Hobbits," Eomer sounded out the name doubtfully, "it is a strange name."

"A strange name for a strange folk," the dwarf agreed, "you probably know them as Halflings."

Eothain snorted derisively, "Do fairy tales and legends now walk the earth?"

Aragorn looked like he was going to give some cryptic answer, but the blond one beat him to it. "Well, funny you should ask, seeing as I am almost certain that Midgardian culture has stories written about you guys, but I don't really think that's important right now. Sounds like the 'Hobbits' kicked the bucket. Sorry guys," he shrugged at the other men…and the dwarf…and the elf… (Things used to be a lot simpler.) "Someone had to say it."

The dark haired man who had yet to speak stilled his vocally inclined friend with a firm hand on the shoulder and added apologetically, "We are sorry for your loss, it sounds as if these Hobbits were very dear to you, but we were sent from Asgard for exploratory purposes, and we accompanied you for the sake of helping your friends, but if your friends are dead, we need accompany you no longer. It would be expedient if we could now travel with these riders to the nearest settlement."

For once, Eomer was speechless, and it looked like Aragorn, and his slightly more loyal friends were as well. This would take care of the problem of letting strangers roam free through the Mark with insurance of good behavior, but Eomer wasn't sure his job was worth listening to those people talk until they made it back to the capital.

Finally Eothain managed to ask, "Excuse Me?"

The blond one started talking again, "So, basically we've been traveling with these guys to have an adventure and save the tiny alien subspecies in distress, but sounds like tiny alien subspecies bit it, so we want to hitch a ride with you guys."

Eomer stared at the talkative one in horror, he saw Eothain staring in disbelief, the dwarf was staring in narrowly suffused rage, the elf was observing in practiced indifference, and Aragorn actually looked a little relieved.

"Um…" he looked to Eothain hopefully, for once hoping the snide officer would insert himself.

Eothain stood a little taller and spoke in his 'If you had followed the rules to begin with you wouldn't be in this position' voice. (Eomer would have been more annoyed except he heard that voice fairly often.) "I am afraid that the Marshal has just given away all of our spare horses, if you desire to ride you must remain with you friends, we trust that in better times you will return to the hospitality of the Mark."

Wow, Eomer had yet to comprehend just how politically correct that little upstart could be.

Aragorn raised his eyebrow at Eothain in an unmistakable challenge, "We thank you for these fine horses," here he rubbed Hasufel's flank, "but my friends have on several occasions confided in me their deep and lasting love for vigorous calisthenics and would little slow you though they were all on foot. Indeed," he continued, "we need only _two_ of your fine horses that your third empty mount may bear them in turns and two may run while one rides. In this way you will make good time, and none of your men will be overburdened, for these men are hardy, and as fleet of foot as of tongue."

Eomer narrowed his eyes, this man may be nobility, he could be the heir of Isildur for all he cared, but he was not going to win this. Aragorn was the one to pick these men up in the first place, and he would be keeping them. That comment about these nincompoops being able to keep pace with the steeds of Rohan kind of rankled though. "We have defeated one company of orcs, yet many more may roam this wilderness, it would be ill-suiting of us to rob you of your protection, if these men desire to see the golden halls of Theoden King, they may ride with you when you have fulfilled your purpose and returned our horses to us."

Aragorn smiled amiably, but Eomer saw, beneath the world weary face and gentle smile, the desperation of a man who has been captive to the horrors of endless banter and seeing an escape would stop for no man. "Then we look forward with anticipation to the conclusion of this adventure that we may return to the Mark and witness the beauty of Rohan's maidens and the richness of Rohirrim wine."

Eomer's relief at Aragorn's unexpected submission was cut off as the talkative one and the fat one both perked up.

"How pretty are we talking here?" The blond man asked.

Aragorn pretended to reminisce for a moment even though Eomer knew that he had never personally been to Riddermark. "The women of Rohan are tall and fair, with hair like flaxen gold; some say the beauty of a Rohirrim shield maiden is comparable even to the beauty of the woodland elves."

The elf raised his eyebrow at Aragorn, but the ranger muttered quickly, "Peace, Legolas!"

"Rohan women are able to fight?" the darker one asked, piqued.

Before Eomer could catch himself, he heard himself saying, "My sister, Eowynn is a shield maiden, and the most perilous and beautiful maiden in Rohan." The blond one and the dark one both looked interested now, and Eomer cursed his brotherly pride.

Aragorn continued relentlessly, "Have you heard, Legolas, of the Rohirrim wines?"

The elf nodded wisely, with a smug expression upon his flawless features, "Long the Elven Lords have treasured the brew of Rohan, indeed, sweet and powerful is the wine, but the food also is perfectly flavored; none go hungry in those fine halls. Those who have eaten there believe that the land itself is blessed to produce so fine a fare."

The red man was listening with rapt attention to Legolas's description until he could contain himself no longer, "Indeed, we must travel with you, oh masters of horses, for no power on earth would bid me ride with these eaters of _lembas_ when so glorious a city is at hand! Give me a horse at once!"

Eomer was beginning to have some very unfriendly thoughts toward these strangers, and decided that it was probably a good thing that he had handed off his spear in order to dismount. "You do us great honor, but alas, Rohan has fallen upon difficult times, and I am afraid naught will grow, our stores are meager and my party was sent that we might find a starving hog or hart with which to feed the old and sick." Rohirrim were primarily honest men, and none were skilled with deceit, but even so, Eomer was pretty sure that his horse could have spun a better lie.

Aragorn looked about them wordlessly for a moment, clearly observing the lush grass and shining horses.

"Fine, we'll take them." Eomer muttered gracelessly.

Eothain stalked off to gather the _eored _and Eomer heard him muttering in vivid terms about half-witted Marshals signing them on to babysit quarter-witted orc hunters.

Eomer sighed; this was going to be a long ride.

**A/N Hey guys, this is Irmo, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, sorry it took so long to update, as a warning, a new fandom will enter the next chapter, see if you can catch it! a lot of craziness is coming up ahead, so if you have not gotten a counciler yet, get one. please review! we update faster when encouraged! wait, that probably means you shouldn't review, for the safety of this world. whatevs, REVIEW! Thank you.**


	4. Of Illusions and Delusions

Disclaimer: _Nothing in the Marvel, Lord of the Rings, or Doctor Who universes is ours._

**A/N** We are so sorry for the slow update, we had the chapter ready on time, but then I decided I didn't like it, and poor Irmo had to scramble for a new one. Sorry, but we hope you like it, and please review, it means alot. If there is anything you like, dislike, or want us to improve, just leave a review, we love them, and we would like to thank animepercystyle for her lovely reviews. Thank you, and enjoy.

**Of Illusions and Dilusions**

Loki strode through the courtyard and for once paid no mind to beautiful ornamentations that surrounded him. Fixing that bridge had gotten him out of the dungeon, but he was still under constant supervision, and he was tired of constantly living under somebody's eye. Ever since his 'James Bond' jump out that dining hall window, security had been tight. Loki grinned. It had so been worth it.

"Do you find something amusing, Brother?"

Loki sighed, now he was stuck with Thor almost all the time, and since Sif was basically glued to Thor, Loki had no time to himself… at all.

"Oh, but this is good, Brother. You and me, it has been too long. If only the warriors were here also, do you not miss them Lady Sif?" Here Thor turned his attention over to Sif, and Loki had a chance to breath.

"Yes, I miss them; I wonder what they are doing right now. Do we know what realm they are in?" Here Sif turned a questioning look toward Thor, and Thor turned his confused, lost puppy eyes on Loki.

Loki tried very hard not to puke in his mouth. "I know only that they are being incredibly dull. If you wish to ascertain the extent of their inactivity, you could always ask Hiemdall." He neatly deflected the question. He did not need to admit that he hadn't the slightest clue where the trio of imbecility had landed other than it was beyond the branches of Yggdrasill. And it was true enough, the warriors were being incredibly poor entertainment, he would have to fix that soon.

"Yes, let us seek out Hiemdall straight way!" Thor restated as if it had been his idea in the first place.

Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead asked innocently, "As I will be within your sight at all times, may we leave out entourage behind?"

Thor looked confused, "We have an entourage?"

Loki just glanced at one of the 'huskier' royal guards trying valiantly to conceal his considerable mass behind a slender aspen.

Thor stared for a moment before the guard, realizing that he had been compromised, gave a strange parody of a bird call and army crawled behind a shrub.

From across the yard came an answering whistle, and the bemused trio saw another guard wrap himself in a green cloak and stand perfectly still.

The three stared at him. The guard did not move a muscle. "I don't think he knows we see him." Sif said at last, breaking the silence.

"Truly Brother, I had no idea we were being observed." Thor attested.

"Yes well, they are Asgard's finest." Loki replied dryly.

Thor nodded gravely, completely missing the stab at Asgardian subterfuge. "I will tell them that they may go." He declared magnanimously, and with a determined step, he proceeded to do just that.

For a moment, Loki and Sif were left alone. Sif eyed Loki warily. Loki allowed his answering grin to turn the tiniest bit wolfish. This was going to be so much fun.

Thor returned moments later with a triumphant grin upon his face. "The guards were reluctant to leave, but I assured them of your good behavior. I trust it was not misplaced." Here he grinned reassuringly at the smaller man as if he was sharing a joke with a fragile child.

"Yeah right…" Loki stopped mid-sentence and looked confused. Then he looked warily down at himself. He looked back at Thor. "Well, fudge."

"What is it Brother?" Thor asked in concern. He looked to Sif, but she appeared just as confused as he was.

"This sounds weird, but I am Sif. Loki did that dumb illusion thing again."

Thor sighed. This was getting really old really fast. At first he had thought it was funny, but Loki had been pulling this prank over and over, sometimes twice in a day. It was old. No, it was beyond old, it had died of old age and Hela had grown bored with it and regurgitated it back into this sad state of repetitive life.

"Seriously, Loki?" Sif exclaimed, rolling her eyes expressively.

"Shut up!" Loki snapped. "I really am Sif!"

"Brother," Thor started gently, "I know that captivity irks you, and that you wish to be free, but you have tried this deception before. It is very clever, but no one believes it anymore."

Loki threw his hands up in frustration. The gesture was very similar to Sif's, but the accompanying eye roll was a little bit off. "I am not Loki! He's an illusionist, obviously he's illusioning us."

Sif sighed and shook her head apologetically, "I think that solitary cracked him, Thor. I'm sorry."

Thor shook his head vehemently, "No," he denied, "he may have grown forgetful, but his mind is strong, in time he will heal."

"I'm not nuts people! I'm Sif!" Loki practically screamed.

"Brother, calm down, I know a lot has happened to you in the last year, but it is over now, you can stop pretending to be someone else." Thor tried diplomatically. This earned him a strange look from Sif. It seemed that she had never heard of Doctor Phil… her loss.

"I am not your brother! How can you be this stupid?" Loki shouted, stepping dangerously close.

Sif leapt between them and pushed Loki back gently but firmly, "Thor isn't your enemy, Loki, just calm down, okay?"

Loki stared at Sif for a moment, and then he started to laugh.

Thor and Sif glanced at each other uncertainly.

"Uh, Loki?" Thor asked apprehensively.

Loki slowly brought his slightly deranged laughter under control. "He's been planning this all along. Trying to look forgetful so that when he pulls out his master card no one will see it coming. You may have fooled Thor, Buster, but you will never fool me! You have Thor wrapped around your pinky finger, but not me. NO, not me, never me! There are no strings on me!"

Loki began cackling evilly and would have lunged at Sif if Thor hadn't grabbed him just in time.

"I did not see that coming." Sif commented after a moment.

"He is really getting violent!" Thor gasped. "I had no idea it could get this bad!"

"Quick! In here!" Sif opened a store room, and Thor threw his still struggling brother into it. Even with Loki off balance, it took the combined effort of Thor and Sif to close and bolt the door.

Thor and Sif leaned against the door in exhaustion. From the other side came muffled curses and loud pounding.

"Well," Thor chuckled eventually, "he is getting to be quite the convincing actor. I imagine that is pretty close to what your real reaction would look like."

Sif just stared at him for a moment. "Thanks." She answered wryly.

Thor just grinned fondly. Then his brows creased. "How is it that he does not simply escape by means of his art?"

Sif frowned, and then her face cleared. "I think that this is the room that he warded against magic! I had no idea that that spell would last this long."

Thor raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.

Sif blushed a little bit. "When Loki and I used to spar, I told him that using magic was cheating, but he had trouble controlling it in the heat of the moment, so he charmed one of the back rooms to cancel most of his power."

Thor stared at her for a moment. "I am sorry, Lady Sif. It must be difficult to find that you are using an advantage that he gave you in good faith against him."

Sif nodded numbly. "Should we go get someone?" She asked after a few minutes of no sound except for Loki, still pounding on the door.

"Of course," Thor agreed, "perhaps you could ask my mother to come; she tends to have a calming effect on him."

Sif nodded briskly and set off down a corridor.

Thor turned his back on her retreating form to tell Loki to calm down, but if he had continued to watch her, he might have seen the slightest glimmer of green before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

~o~o~o~

Fandral eased himself into his chair with a sigh of relief. They had been riding and running all day, and if he ever saw Aragorn again he would kill him for giving Eomer THAT idea. As soon as it was Hogun's turn to ride, the horses seemed to have become reinvigorated, and left him and Volstagg in the dust. Actually there was very little dust involved, but the point stands, they were stranded miles from anywhere and had to jog (stumble and wheeze) the rest of the way to this this pathetic vestige of antiquated civilization.

By the time he and Volstagg had finally shown up, Hogun had already met the king, informed his 'creepy little councilor' of their purpose, and been given leave to go. (That last bit was significant apparently, because the horse people were in some sort of lockdown and liked to keep their strangers close.)

Hogun told them that the king (or the greasy little advisor who appeared to be the real hand of government) had wanted to keep the warriors as assurance that Aragorn and his pose would return, but Eomer had somehow managed to convince the king that the warriors three were not a threat and that Aragorn was a man of his word and would return to give account of his dealings. Eomer had also suggested that no man, however noble, would willingly subject himself to the loud one's company, so the warrior's presence in the mark would be more of a deterrent than an incentive for the ranger's good faith.

Fandral had found that last bit a little offensive, but he was exhausted and thirsty, so it had been easy enough to just take freedom for what it was worth and go find a bar.

That was how he found himself here. It didn't quite meet the Aesir standards, but a bar is a bar, and Elf-boy had said that the booze was to die for, so he might as well give it a shot.

He settled himself into his seat and grinned at a passing bar maid. He received surprisingly little reaction. Huh, his devastating good looks seemed to have been dampened somewhat by the week of traveling through the uncharted wilderness with a ranger who knows less about hygiene than Volstagg knows about temperance.

He was snapped back to the present when Hogun elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Oops, he had kind of zoned out there, and now the dude one table over was staring at him with a really obnoxious smile on his face. You can meet some weirdos in these places.

"You looking at us, pal?" Volstagg challenged. It would have sounded a lot scarier if half of a chicken was not stuck in his beard. The creeper just grinned wider.

"I _SAID_ do you see something funny?" Volstagg was getting a little red (redder) in the face now.

Fandral grinned. Woefully exhausted and irritable Volstagg VS slightly confused and probably drunk Creeper; battle of the century was emblazoned all over it.

"Oh, don't think anything of it, I just was just noticing that you guys look a little out of place."

"You think _we_ look out of place?" Volstagg blustered.

Fandral would have thought that he had over done it with the beverages, but all he had had so far were a couple of pints, and not even of the strong stuff. He must have just been looking for a fight. Or the creepy smile was wearing on him. That would be understandable.

"Well if you wanted to fit in, then you probably should have dressed for the occasion. I mean, you got the time period right, but the location is all wrong. All the people here are dressed from the mid Anglo-Saxon era; you guys are totally dressed as Vikings."

The warriors stared at him uncomprehendingly. People who said that Fandral couldn't hold his alcohol had obviously never seen this guy in action.

The guy took their silence as an invitation and picked up his tankard and moved over to their table. "I mean, nice costumes, very vintage, but you landed in the wrong spot. Not that I can talk, I was aiming for a totally awesome cantina. Local mob boss owes me for that pet I got him." Here he leaned in conspiratorially, "I couldn't find a rancor, but nobody knew what one looked like anyway, so I just made a little hop to pre-deluge, and picked up a dinosaur."

The warriors stared at him in a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

"Seriously guys, help me out a little. I haven't had a chance to talk time travel in ages!" Here he paused, "That last comment is kind of subjective and very hard to verify."

"Um, do we know you?" Hogun asked at last.

"Probably not, people tend to remember this money maker." the man explained, pointing to his face and smiling winningly, "My name's Jack Harness, ex-Time Agent, ex-model, ex-Time Lord companion, and current black market supplier for the shadiest dealer this side of Tatooine, my do-hicky just picked up some time displacement in this area and I thought I would check it out." here the creeper pulled a little blue thing-a-ma-bob from his pocket and buzzed it at them.

The three stared at him blankly.

'Jack' sighed dramatically and pocketed the device. "Seriously guys, just once I would like someone to acknowledge how impressive it is that I actually managed to nick a sonic screwdriver from Mister tall alien and paranoid."

Suddenly the creeper's head was forcibly introduced to a high-speed salt grinder (the big kind). Volstagg stood over him with a triumphant grin, and multiple screams were heard throughout the bar.

Fandral and Hogun stared at Volstagg. Volstagg stared back. Some random old guy with a mustache dropped his glass. "What? He was freaking me out!"

"Why did you have to bean him? He was just a little bit creepy. Over kill buddy, over kill." Fandral admonished with a sad shake of his head.

Volstagg grinned sheepishly, "I just meant to nock some sense into him, I'm used to people with tougher constitutions."

Hogun quietly cleared his throat, and Fandral and Volstagg looked up to see that everyone was now staring at them with looks of wariness and confusion on their faces. In the door way stood three men, one of whom was wearing a funny helmet.

"Is there a problem here, Gentlemen?" asked the helmet man who seemed to be in charge.

Fandral's eyes widened. Helmet dude was Eomer. This was going to be very awkward.

"Dirty horse thief, stole my friend's gelding." Hogun shook his head angrily at the black leather clad body that was still sprawled across the table. Somehow it didn't look as gross as it had a moment ago.

"Horse thief?" The huge, bearded bar-tender clomped to their table, leaving a conspicuous trail of displaced tables in his wake. The man was obviously a veteran; out from under his massive apron stuck several knives not designed for food preparation, and he sported more scars than teeth. He towered over the warriors, and glared at his recently deceased patron.

Fandral suddenly noticed that his throat was uncomfortably dry, but this seemed a bad time to order another round so he just stared up at the giant.

"Any man who steals horses in the Mark has it coming." The bartender spat. With one more disapproving look at the weird stranger, the man gave them all a refill and returned to his counter.

With that, every one turned back to their food, and they heard several people talking in disgruntled tones about the rise in horse thieving recently.

"Death by salt shaker, that's a new one."

Three pairs of eyes snapped up to Eomer who had approached their table unnoticed. Behind Eomer was a slightly built blond with eyes to make Amorra green with jealousy. Not literally green mind you, but that would be funny, they could call her Gomorra. For some reason, that thought seemed a lot funnier than it probably was, and Fandral started giggling uncontrollably.

Eomer looked a little concerned, and edged away a little bit, keeping himself between the arguably unstable man and the woman who was either way out of his league or his sister.

Hogun just rolled his eyes, "My friend has had too many but means no harm, please, join us."

Eomer seemed instantly averse to joining their table, but the blonde girl pulled up a chair and sat down, so after a moment, he followed suit.

The new girl flipped her hair carelessly, and Fandral stared. Forget what he thought earlier, Amorra would so be green right now. He leaned forward slightly, and opened his mouth for a really smooth pickup line, when he noticed Eomer's slightly too placid smirk and the blond girl's conveniently empty dagger sheath. He sat back abruptly and noticed Eomer's approving look. Stupid blonds.

"So, you are Eowyn." Fandral deduced after a slightly awkward silence.

"I am," she lifted her chin challengingly.

"Eomer mentioned that you are shield maiden, and judging by how you wear your sword, you are familiar with weaponry, but if you are a warrior why do you wear a dress?"

"I don't know," she answered tartly, "Why do you?"

Before he could stop himself, Fandral had risen to the bait, "This is not a skirt!"

Eowyn raised her eyebrow.

"It doesn't even look like a skirt; it's just a long shirt."

"So, it's like a tunic." Eowyn surmised.

"Yes, it is a tunic." Fandral agreed.

"It's a very manly tunic with tights and a cape." Eowyn continued.

"This is not a skirt! Does anybody else think it looks even remotely like a skirt?"

"Yeah, it does look a little girly with all that gold stuff and the fluttery cape." supplied the newly conscious Jack.

"Nobody asked for your input, Zombie, and it is a cloak, not a cape." Fandral spluttered.

"It looks like a cape to me." Volstagg whispered to Hogun. He meant it to be quiet, but subtlety was not one of his stronger qualities.

Fandral glared at Volstagg, but, in a rare moment of insight, decided to drop it before his hole got any deeper.

"So, gorgeous," Jack leaned in toward Eowyn with a grin to charm granite, "Wanna get outa here?"

Apparently Eowyn was a little harder than granite, as was Eomer's fist.

Well, Fandral didn't like Jack very much, but he had wanted an excuse to beat Eomer up ever since that little 'incident' when the blond captain had left him and Volstagg stranded without food or horses, so he grabbed a chair and smashed it over Eomer's back. The marshal stumbled forward from the unexpected blow, giving Jack time to recover from a truly wicked left hook.

Fandral's moment of victory was cut short however, as Eowyn kicked his legs out from under him and came up with a lightning quick jab to the back that left him sprawled on his face.

Volstagg flew at Eowyn with a turkey leg still grasped securely in one hand. Suddenly his charge was cut short by a stiff arm. Hogun looked down at his neatly vanquished friend, and then turned, rubbed his slightly bruised fist, and grinned at Eowyn. She grinned back sweetly, and his smile slipped a fraction just as she fell into a crouch and a wooden chair was reduced to splinters over his head.

"No wonder I'm single if that's how you treat my prospective suitors!" she laughed as she launched a blow at Jack.

"It's kinder me than you!" Eomer rejoined as he rammed Fandral into a table. Unfortunately for Eomer, that happened to be the table Volstagg was still under.

Volstagg clambered to his feet, and pulled Eomer off of Fandral. He threw a wild punch that the smaller man dodged with ease.

But now Eomer had an Asgardian on either side, and he realized belatedly, that these men really had no love for him. With a quick motion he threw his weight backwards at Fandral, and kicked his feet upwards around the fat one's shoulders, effectively pinning the larger man's arms to his body. With a quick jerk, he had broken free of Fandral, and thrown Volstagg to the floor once more. He spun on the spot and blocked a blow from Fandral. Suddenly, he was lifted from behind and thrown across the room.

Volstagg laughed in triumph and Fandral winced, "That probably really hurt."

By now almost everyone in the bar was fighting, regardless of side. Eowyn and Hogun had drawn knives and were now attacking each other with a dazzling display of stabs and slashes artfully mixed with a strange conglomeration of footwork and martial styles, Jack was flirting with no one in particular while engaged in vigorous combat with most of the bar's occupants, and the old man with the mustache was selling tickets at the door.

"I hate to say it, but Aragorn was so right." Fandral declared.

"I love this town!" Volstagg agreed, and knocked a random man over the head with his tankard.

Rather than falling over, the man froze and turned around, slowly and menacingly. He was the bartender… and he looked a whole lot less friendly than he had earlier. Volstagg gulped.

Ten minutes of needlessly violent crowd control later, Volstagg rose gingerly to his feet outside the tavern, only to be knocked down again by a very angry Eowyn. He sat up and blinked at her. That was an impressive punch from such a dinky girl. "What was that for?" he demanded woozily. He looked to his fellows for support, but Fandral was dusting himself off from his forced removal at the hands of the bartender… and Hogun was to Eowyn-brainwashed to be any help.

"That was for chucking my brother into a wall, you jerk." She spat.

Volstagg stepped back; she looked weirdly upset, "It was a bar fight, he asked for it." As he said it, he chanced a glance at Eomer. The marshal was sitting on the steps to the tavern holding his ribs and grinning ruefully; he would probably have a couple truly evil bruises, but it wasn't like he had to be fighting fit to defend his world against the forces of evil anytime soon… overprotective sister much?

Eowyn simmered for a moment, murder in her eyes, and Volstagg was getting a little worried for his safety, when Jack helpfully inserted himself.

"Hey, look on the bright side sweetheart," he grinned roguishly, "with big brother slowed down, maybe we can get a bit of privacy."

Jack didn't even have a chance to wipe the stupid smile off his face before Eowyn stabbed him with a knife that looked suspiciously like one of Hogun's, and pushed him back.

Everyone stared for a moment as he crumpled to the ground. Eowyn met their eyes levelly. "He can walk it off." With that, she stepped over Jack and sat by Eomer again.

Fandral edged away from her slowly, and Eomer glared at Hogun until he did as well. Talk about overprotective, good grief. Vostagg rolled his eyes, but made sure that Stab-happy-Amozon-chick didn't see the expression. Contrary to popular belief, Volstagg did occasionally respect the line between brave and stupid.

Finally, Fandral took his life in his hands and muttered, "Seriously, all it takes is dissing Mister blond and Bearded and suddenly you get a knife in your gut?"

"The irony of that statement coming from one who would literally commit treason in order to rescue an arrogant, mass murdering maniac from the universe's cushiest time-out corner since ever is truly nauseating."

All three of them whirled around at the sound of the new voice. And there, draped in his entire green princely splendor, stood Loki.

**A/N ll: This has been a... well, very intresting chapter to write, Kementari is nerding out about how everything has to be perfect, actaully, by the time I am done typing this, she probably will have found ten or so grammatical or spelling mistakes, of course, thanks to Kementari, you also can read what I write, which, is a miracle, anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and see you in another *looks at calender* month? **


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